


seen me with these hangman’s hands

by aunt_zelda



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Beating, Choking, False Identity, Fantasy Racism, First Kiss, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, Illnesses, Interrogation, Love Confessions, M/M, Murder, Resurrection, Sleep Deprivation, Torture, Undercover, Undercover Missions, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:06:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26684869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aunt_zelda/pseuds/aunt_zelda
Summary: Essek has been captured, and the only way to get him out safely is for Caleb to pretend to be a Scourger sent to interrogate the Xhorhassian spy.
Relationships: Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast
Comments: 9
Kudos: 215
Collections: Darkest Night 2020





	seen me with these hangman’s hands

**Author's Note:**

  * For [venndaai](https://archiveofourown.org/users/venndaai/gifts).



> Was intrigued by your prompt about Caleb having to pretend to be a Scourger again and torture Essek, and wanted to write you a treat. 
> 
> Title comes from Macbeth.

Essek has been here for ten days. 

Nine days? No, ten. Perhaps eleven? It’s not a good sign that he’s starting to lose track of time. If they succeed in disorienting him to that degree, they’re all the closer to breaking him. Essek does not wish to be broken. 

He was careless. Arrogant. The latest teleportation for the Mighty Nein brought him close to an Empire outpost, and he was dangerously low on spells. He was found, captured, and dragged to this pathetic spot where no one will look for the Shadowhand. 

The soldiers who hold him are bored, patriotic, and just smart enough to be dangerous. They keep him from trance, they bind his hands even when he’s inside the cell, they rotate guards and feed him meager food and little water. 

Twice already he’s been tempted to beg for water. 

It is so very cold here, in the north. The soldiers here must be miserable. Essek takes some small comfort in that. They took his cloak and his shoes and he has felt the unfamiliar twinge of sickness at the back of his throat. Will they let him waste away? Should he tell them how important he is, get a better cell in Rexxentrum? 

_Hey Essek! We could use a pickup! We’re pretty close to where you left us before! It’s so cold I’m actually cold!_

Essek jolts upright. Shifting to face away from the guard he mutters _Captured by Empire outpost. Near where I left you. At least 50 guards. Please …_ Essek has no idea how to finish the sentence. He slumps to the floor. There are too many soldiers. The Mighty Nein won’t risk themselves for him. He is so very cold, and his throat is burning now, and he aches to rest but the guards rattle the bars and force him back to consciousness. 

~*~

Caleb straightens up. “How do I look?”

“Like an asshole.” Beau scowls. 

“Intimidating.” Fjord says. 

“Really mean.” Jester offers. 

“Perfect.” Caleb folds his arms. “Remember, message Beau if something changes out here. I need to focus.”

“I don’t like this plan.” Caduceus says. “I don’t like it at all.”

“Have you got another idea?” Veth asks.

“… no.” Caduceus admits. 

Caleb glares at the horizon, taking a deep breathe. Then he strides towards the outpost. Beau keeps pace with him.

“You understand I might do … very bad things in there, yes?” Caleb asks.

“No shit.”

“You know the worst thing I have ever done. But now you will see me do things. Seeing is different than hearing.”

“I’m not a kid, Caleb. I get it. I’ve seen some fucked up stuff. I can handle myself.” Beau sticks out her chin defiantly. 

Caleb looks away from her. “I don not want you to see me like this. I do not want anyone to see me like this.”

They walk in silence for a moment. 

“You’re doing the right thing. You’re saving a friend.” Beau says at last. 

“I hope so.” Caleb sets his jaw. 

~*~

The outpost is small, dingy, and miserable. Caleb doesn’t have to act to put on a sneer of disgust, the smell is rank and greasy, too many unwashed bodies in cramped winter conditions. 

“Where is the Captain?” he calls out, affecting an imperious voice used to being obeyed. 

Some scuffling, and a man with a drooping mustache arrives. His uniform is creased and he wears no helmet.

“Who are you?” the Captain peers at Caleb and Beau.

“I am Bren Ermendrud, mage of the Cerberus Assembly. This is my second, Astrid.” The lies fall from his lips so easily. “We are here for your prisoner.”

“How do you know we’ve got a prisoner?” the Captain asks suspiciously. 

“I am from the Cerberus Assembly.” Caleb glares at the man meaningfully. 

In the huddle of assembled soldiers, the word “Volstrucker” is whispered back and forth. 

The Captain pales. “Uh, yes sir, of course, this way …”

Caleb and Beau are ushered into the depths of the place, to a very cold and very isolated cell. 

There they find Essek. He’s barefoot, shaking, and lying on the floor. His hands are tied and the discoloration around his wrists suggests he’s been bound for some time. 

“What have you found out?” Caleb asks, voice as cold and detached as the ice of this place. 

“Nothing. He’s a crick obviously but he won’t talk. Kept him from trance, kept him half starved. He’ll break soon enough sir.”

“Not soon enough for our needs.” Caleb lets his lip curl. Let them think it’s disgust at the prisoner. 

“What’s that?” the Captain asks.

“There’s troop movements to the south. We suspect a second invasion. This one might be a scout of some kind.” Beau takes over in a brisk tone unlike her usual cadence. “It’s critical we obtain his information as soon as possible.”

The Captain looks panicked at the word ‘invasion.’ 

“Captain, let us do our work, and we should have our answers shortly,” Caleb begins to roll up his sleeves. 

The Captain nods. “Of course.” He gestures for the cell to be unlocked. 

“You might wanna step out for a bit, it can get messy,” Beau mutters to the Captain.

Unfortunately, they must have played it too well.

The Captain straightens up, patriotic pride burning in his eyes. “I’m no coward, ma’am. I’ll stay, and any of my men who can’t stomach this will be whipped.” 

Caleb’s own stomach twists. There goes Plan A – to draw a teleportation circle while alone in the cell and escape. 

The cell clangs open and Caleb steps inside. 

The smell of illness is stronger in the cell. Also blood, the metallic tang Caleb knows all too well. 

Essek looks up when Caleb draws close. Recognition crosses his face, followed by confusion and fear. 

“Can you stand, wretch?” Caleb snaps. 

Understanding crosses Essek’s face. He tries and fails to heave himself up. 

“No matter.” Caleb lashes out with a foot, catching Essek in the chest. To the guards outside, it looks vicious, but Caleb knows how to angle his foot so no real harm is done. A dull thud is all Essek will feel. 

Essek groans convincingly and rolls over. He casts a searching, bleary look at Caleb. 

Caleb falls back into a horribly familiar routine. He asks questions, leading Essek to one answer and the next. Essek, despite his clear sickness, manages to follow the narrative well enough. Many of the slaps and strikes have to be real, they’re too close to the guards for anything else. Essek spits blood onto the floor and yells in true agony several times. 

Finally, Caleb feigns rage. It’s easy enough, though his true fury and disgust is with himself rather than Essek. He closes his hands around Essek’s throat, facing away from the guards, and mouths an apology as he begins to squeeze. 

Essek flails and panics. Caleb can see in his eyes that Essek thinks himself betrayed. He keeps a firm grip despite the weak struggling, counting internally, and finally feeling the pulse beneath his fingers stop. 

Caleb feels his stomach turn and keeps from vomiting with difficulty. 

Beau hides her shock with an order. “You there! Help me bring the body out.”

“Bring the … he’s dead!” the Captain protests. 

“We have ways of speaking to the dead.” Caleb says hoarsely. 

The Captain recoils. 

“Fine, I’ll do it.” Beau growls and heaves Essek’s body over her shoulder. 

The journey out of the cells is a silent one. Caleb keeps waiting for an alarm, a hand on his shoulder, something … but the soldiers let them leave. They take Essek’s body through the gates and out of sight. 

Caleb leans against a tree and vomits. Then he helps Beau carry the body. 

~*~

“This is unnatural.”

“You’ve done it to us.”

“Well, yes, but that was … different.” Caduceus eyes the body anxiously. 

“Fine! If the stinky Wildmother won’t help him, I will.” Jester shoves Caduceus aside and rolls up her sleeves. 

Caleb notes that despite her bravado, her hands are shaking. “Can you do this?” he whispers to her, as the others are distracted by an argument with Caduceus, Fjord trying to keep the peace. 

“Of course!” Jester says with a brittle smile. She falters, lowering her voice. “I’ve never done this spell before. It’s really difficult. We have to make offerings and … and …”

“What?” Caleb wonders if blood is required, or something more. A hand? An eye?

“If he doesn’t want to come back.” She whispers, so soft he can barely hear her. “Then he won’t come back. Caleb, what if he’s finally somewhere beyond those creepy beacons, what if he wants to stay where he is?”

Caleb had not considered that. “Then we shall find out.” He says grimly. “He has much to answer for. Much to do. His work is not yet done here.”

Jester eyes him, then sets about arranging objects around Essek and tracing magical glyphs in the air. 

Soon Beau and Veth join them. “Fjord and Yasha took Caduceus off on a walk.” Beau nods her head in the direction they left. “Clear the air.”

Jester reverently places a large diamond on Essek’s chest. “Three of us need to make an offering.”

“What kind of an offering?”

“It doesn’t specify. An object, and some words. People have done songs, poems, declarations, all kinds of things.” Jester straightens up. “I’m going to be one of the people. Who else?”

Beau and Veth exchange looks. Finally, Veth nods. “Me. He … he helped me, back into my body. Only right I do the same.”

Beau shuffles back a bit. “I’ll keep watch. In case those soldiers get curious.”

“Caleb, are you ok?” Veth asks. “For the spell?”

Caleb nods curtly. 

“Here we go.” Jester holds out her hands and begins an incantation. 

The glyphs flare to life around them. The hair on the back of Caleb’s neck stand on end. 

“Traveler, please, bring him back to us. I offer this Fire Opal. I was going to grind it up and use it for a tattoo for you Essek, to help keep you safe. Please come back so we can talk about what kind of tattoo.” Her voice is strong but there are tears streaking down her face. “It could be anything you want, anything at all. I’m getting better and, and you said you liked my art, and you said you’d like to have a tattoo from me someday, and well, you have to be here for someday to happen!”

The magic wraps around the stone offering and begins to consume it. Jester smiles and nods encouragingly to Veth next. 

Veth speaks up. “Essek, I don’t know if you can hear us but, well … you helped me, get back into my body. My real body. You gave me my life back. So … I want to help you get back into your body. If you want to.” She gulps, blinking furiously, and holds out a sleek black feather. “This is a magical feather, it can cast Levitate. I was going to keep it to myself and float around like you the next time we saw you, but … you levitate all the time and I thought … I don’t know, I just want you to come back.” She sets the feather down on Essek’s chest. It flares with magical light and vanishes like Jester’s offering did. 

The women turn to Caleb. 

Caleb stares at Essek’s bruised, beaten face. “I promised I would help you. Help you on the path we are both on, doing good despite being damned.” 

Caleb hears his voice crackling and can’t blame it entirely on the magic. He swears he feels heat nearby, like a body standing too close, breath on his neck. 

“I regret many things. I regret what I did to you today in that cell. Please, don’t let that be for nothing.” Caleb feels his courage faltering and pushes forward. “Please, come back. There is work to be done. And we … and I …” Caleb clenches his fists. “I wish to speak to you of things. Things other than redemption. Of … of love.” 

He definitely feels heat now, hears the faintest whisper in his ear. 

“I offer this,” Caleb lays down a shard of residuum. “For our pasts, to be consumed by this spell. Let us forge ahead together. Make the world a better place than we found it.”

The magic flares, enveloping the residuum.

For a long moment the clearing is silent. Caleb stares at Essek’s chest, straining to hear …

Essek gasps and opens his eyes. He looks around in confusion for a moment, hands twitching as he groans in pain. 

“Essek you’re back!” Jester cheers, sounding near sobbing. 

Veth fumbles for her flask. Beau leans against a nearby tree in relief. 

Essek looks at Caleb. Caleb looks at Essek. 

“Caleb, I –” Essek tries to sit up, flinches, and collapses on the ground again.

“Oh you need healing!” Jester holds out her hands and sparkly light envelops Essek, healing most of his visible wounds. “How do you feel now?”

“… better. Much. Thank you Jester.” Essek slowly sits up. “Where are we?”

“A clearing, not far from the outpost. I will teleport us away soon.” Caleb says.

“Good.” Essek looks around warily. “I would like to be far away from here, as soon as possible.”

Beau heads off to find the others. Veth pulls Jester aside to give Essek and Caleb space. 

Caleb starts to outline the teleportation circle. 

“Thank you.” Essek’s voice sounds strained. 

“I do not deserve that.” Caleb pauses. 

“What a world it would be, if we all got what we deserved.” Essek muses. 

Caleb has no clever retort to that. He finishes with the circle, leaving one mark undone for when the others are ready. 

“You had no obligation to rescue me. You risked much to do so. And you saved my life.” Essek wraps his arms around himself. “While the methods were extreme, you achieved the desired result.”

Caleb shudders. “I had no desire to harm you.”

“I know. Which is why I am still speaking to you.” Essek holds out a hand. “I want to have a long talk, but … later. I have not felt this fatigued in many years.”

Carefully, Caleb takes Essek’s hand and holds him. Essek’s fingers interlace with his.

“I heard you. I heard your words.” Essek brings Caleb’s hand up to his mouth and kisses his skin, just above his wrist. 

Caleb feels his face heat. 

“Speak to me of regrets. Speak to me of love.” Essek kisses Caleb’s hand again.

Caleb brings Essek’s hand to his own mouth and kisses Essek’s wrist. “I will. I promise.” 

Essek pulls Caleb’s hand up to his throat. Caleb tenses, nearly pulling back, but Essek leans in and kisses him. He keeps his hand over Caleb’s, pressing Caleb’s fingers over Essek’s bruised skin. 

The memory of strangling Essek returns, but now it’s clouded with the new memory of kissing Essek. Caleb tangles his free hand in Essek’s hair, deepening the kiss. 

A somewhat stifled yelp from the distance startles them apart. Jester looks delighted and Veth is spluttering the contents of her flask.

“Later.” Essek says, as they hear the others returning.

“Yes. Later.” Caleb nods, mind whirling with plans for later.


End file.
